


You Don't Need Freedom if You're Dead

by Somedeepmystery



Series: User Pic Fic i.e. The Cracky Crossovers [6]
Category: Firefly, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:18:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6179929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somedeepmystery/pseuds/Somedeepmystery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In order to fly through the Athena Asteroid Belt, you need to hire a Belt Pilot. Han has cargo to deliver and Wash just want's to get out to the black.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Don't Need Freedom if You're Dead

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of a long ago meme on livejournal, where you take all the characters in your user pic (icons) and mix them up, pair them up and then write something about the pair. It lead to some crazy team ups.

  
  


The man had a gun pointed at him under the table. He was trying to be coy about it, but Wash knew. He knew because that feeling at the back of his neck, all tight and scratchy like, always told him whenever someone was pointing a weapon at him… or usually it did. Sometimes it was faulty, but on the whole he had very intense survival instincts. He was doing his best not to let the guy see that he was nervous but still, he was aware that he was laughing way too much.

“Now, to tell ya the truth, I could fly this belt with my eyes closed,” the guy… Wash thought he’d said his name was Han…was saying confidently. “But the higher up, muckity mucks insist everyone flies with a Belt Pilot…” Wash made the mistake of snorting at the man’s arrogance. He heard some indistinct rattling under the table. He thought to himself, either get shot or make yourself indispensable.

He leaned in, and tapped a finger on the table top. “Three hundred thousand chunks of metal ore and rock the Alliance can’t blast their way through, five million blocks of ice, all spinning at roughly five hundred miles per hour. Maps for Athena’s belt are updated every five minutes. How many calculations can you do in your head in a second? Because sometimes that’s exactly how much time you have to decide which direction you’re going to go.” 

Wash leaned back and folded his hands over his stomach in an attempt to look like he was totally calm. “Now, I have flown that belt more times than any other pilot. Even though the Company no longer employs me, my license is still valid, so if you’ve got me on your ship they won’t be bringing any of their fellas on board and you won’t risk raising any suspicions as to your, likely less than government approved, cargo.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he waited for the other man’s reaction. He didn’t want to even think about the big hairy guy that had just come up to stand beside him.

“What makes you think my cargo is less than legal?” Han asked leaning in, looking both charming and menacing at the same time. 

“Well, if it was you wouldn’t be here shopping for pilots would you, you’d just pick one up at the station like everyone else.”

A long moment of silence followed that. It was broken by a loud roar from the tall hairy guy which made Wash jump and move a bit sideways. 

“You’re right, Chewy, we don’t have time to mess around. Okay kid, you’re hired. Be at loading bay 519 in an hour. One,” he held up a finger. “Hour. You’re late and I’ll be tracking you down later.” And in a rush the man was gone. 

Wash sighed with relief as he ran his hands over his already disheveled hair. He didn’t enjoy dealing with the criminal types, but since he’d sort of become one he wasn’t left with a great deal of choice. At least, it would get him off this rock and get some coin in his pocket. That is if it didn’t get him killed instead.


End file.
